


We'll be alright

by goldenharry (Alltheloveharry)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Album: Fine Line (Harry Styles), Album: Walls (Louis Tomlinson), Angst with a Happy Ending, Famous Harry Styles, Famous Louis Tomlinson, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24138094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alltheloveharry/pseuds/goldenharry
Summary: One simple missed call and all the memories come rushing backor the one time where Louis calls Harry and Harry doesn't know how to react
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	1. Prologue

The smooth rug feels good underneath his feet. He is not cold just yet, but if the photographer continues to fumble with the camera any longer he might just start to be.

“Harry? You ready ?”

He turns and sighs slightly when he sees Jeff, next to the photographer. They’re both looking at him and seem to be waiting for him now. He clears his throat and feels a slight burn of shame coming up his cheeks. God bless they’re both too far to see he’s blushing.

“Erm, yeah.”

He pauses and thinks back on it for a second. He’s ready, physically. He’s all dressed up, he’s on the set, and the photoshoot is almost finished. So yeah, ready. Expect all he wants to do is run off out of here and go outside to be able to look at his phone properly and figure out why the fuck does he have a missed call from Louis Tomlinson, his former bandmate and former lover.

Jeff calls his name again and Harry just nods slowly before he walks to the chair he’s supposed to sit on for the pictures. He smiles when he realizes that now that he is underneath the spotlights he’s not cold anymore. He sighs loudly this time before taking a laid back pose.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

He’s got a few seconds before he’s blinded by a flash.


	2. Test of my patience

The album is nearly finished, is what Jeff says to him every day. There are three songs left to write so in Harry’s opinion it’s not nearly finished,. Every day he tries to write songs but he doesn’t have anything left to say. Or maybe he’s got things he wants to say but doesn’t exactly know how to say them. He doesn’t know how to think properly since the Beauty Papers photoshoot that he’s done a few days earlier. He forgot how to think since the missed call from Louis.

Harry closes his eyes and groans before he stands up and stretches his arms. He’s tired, it’s cold out and it’s nearly 1 am. He smiles when he feels his stomach grumbling and realizes that he hasn’t eaten anything else than a few salted almonds hours ago. Slowly he walks up to the kitchen and tries his hardest to get out of the trance state he is in. For the last five hours he’s tried to write a song but it just doesn’t come. The melody is absent and the words just refuse to fill the blank pages.  
While he waits for the water to boil he doesn’t think of what sort of pasta he wants to eat but he stares at his phone which is there, placed on the counter, taunting him. He thinks of the fact that if he was to take his phone in his hand he would see the notification of the missed call. He would see it and then do nothing, just stare at it for hours on end and then fall asleep and proceed to dream about Louis. What takes his attention away from his phone this time is the fact that the water starts to boil and will soon start to bubble up and leave a mess everywhere on the stove and Harry doesn’t want to have to clean. It already takes so much effort to do the bare minimum.

His pastas end up being overcooked and too salty. He doesn’t have the heart to throw the whole thing away and he knows that if he doesn’t eat this, he won’t eat anything else. He jumps out of his skin when his phone starts to ring. His heart is pounding in his chest and his hands start to shake. He doesn’t even know who is calling him really. He can see his phone but it’s placed face down. He did this the night of the photoshoot, he came home and placed the phone there, face down so he couldn’t see who would call him. It’s been five days. How the phone still holds a bit of battery is completely beyond him. Slowly, he gets up and wishes the phone would stop ringing so he could get back to eating his disgusting meal but the ring does not stop. He picks up the phone without looking at it and swipes right.

“H, what the fuck you were supposed to call me last night.”

Xander’s tone is aggressive and Harry flinches slightly even though he doesn’t feel bad.

“Hm, yeah, I just.. I didn’t have time. I’ve been writing.” He speaks out slowly. The lie tastes bitter on his tongue but he doesn’t want to admit that he’s just been thinking about Louis all this time. But Xander isn’t gullible.

“Don’t lie, Jeff said you can write for shit these days.” He does not even sound mad about the fact that Harry lied to him, he’s just annoyed. He doesn’t care enough to be hurt. Harry rolls his eyes and his teeth tug on his lower lip.  
“Yeah well, fuck off.” He declares lowly and he feels slightly ashamed to be this childish. Xander’s loud laugh resonates in his ears but Harry doesn’t smile. He wants to sleep, he wants to hang up.

“How’s L.A.? “ He then asks while he refrains a small yawn. He doesn’t give a shit about how Los Angeles right now but he tries to do some small talk because he feels like shit.  
“I want to suck you off,” Xander responds without a care in the world. The conversation feels like a badly written dialogue is one of the shitty TV shows that Harry watches when he can’t sleep. They’re not listening to one another and Harry now has the confirmation that Xander is just cross because he is horny and Harry didn’t call last night for their regular phone sex. Yeah, he really feels like shit.  
“Go suck your own dick then.”  
He hangs up and slams his phone on the counter. There’s no battery left. The phone dies.

Mitch is fumbling the strings of his guitar. The sound is sweet, the melody is quite catchy and Harry feels nothing but jealousy. He admires musicians so much that he detests them. He is a musician himself of course but he wishes he had learned to play guitar or piano at a young age. By now, he would be a pro and would be able to create something beautiful In a short amount of time. Much like Mitch is doing right now. They’re both at the studio and they’re not alone, Jeff is there too for supervision, except he hasn’t looked up his phone for the entire two hours they’ve been here. Harry chews on his lower lip and pulls himself off the couch he’s been sitting on.

“What if the album only has nine songs.”

The declaration doesn’t go unnoticed. The guitar abruptly stops and Jeff looks up his phone. He’s looking at Harry like the man just told him he wanted to kill himself. Harry holds his manager’s stare and shrugs.

“What? It’s not that bad.”

Jeff snorts and puts his phone in his back pocket before crossing his arms on his chest.

“Don’t.” He warns because he knows that Harry wants to argue with him. “The contract was twelve songs and it will remain twelve songs. Just write the three last songs and it’ll be done.”

Harry hates when Jeff talks about his music like he talks business. He’s aware that his manager is very much of a businessman but he doesn’t like the idea that he’s got to write 12 songs because of a fucking contract even if he isn’t inspired to write any more songs. Deep down he knows that if he decides to write the three shittiest songs of his whole career, Jeff will put up with it and he hates that idea.  
He closes his eyes a few seconds and rubs his temples slowly because he feels a strong headache coming. When he opens his eyes again, Jeff is still staring at him. Naturally, Harry decides to take his cigarettes and his lighter and he walks out of the studio without a word. Once he’s out in front of the studio, he waits for Jeff to run after him and yell at him. When he realizes Jeff is not coming, Harry looks up at the sky and mutters an insult through his teeth. It’s starting to rain. He looks down at his cigarettes that he now can’t smoke and then he thinks about Louis. He thinks how Louis would try to light his cigarettes in the rain and he would be laughing while doing it. He knows this because he’s seen it. His heart feels suddenly heavy and he’s growing cold. His tee shirt is already damp with the rain and he knows he’s going to catch a cold if he doesn’t run back inside soon but he doesn’t give a fuck. Instead, his hand reaches his back pocket and he pulls out his phone. He sees the notification he’s tried so hard to ignore for the last few days and he presses down on it.  
It rings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this chapter!  
> Thank you


	3. Even my phone misses your call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The call starts and ends and many things are left unsaid

He almost hangs up right away. His heart is pounding so hard in his chest he can hear it resonate in his ears. The bipping sound is dreadful, he hates it. Harry hates waiting, it’s a general rule. He is impatient and really demanding so he despises the fact that Louis has not yet answered. When he hears a soft voice at the end of the line, he nearly drops his phone. He closes his eyes and hears the voice again. 

“Harry? Harry is that you?” 

That’s Louis. Louis is talking to him, asking if he’s really there and if he can hear him and Harry wants to puke. He is shaking and for a minute he thinks he’s lost the ability to speak. 

“Hi, Louis.” His voice comes out all squeaky and weak and really he is this close to hanging up. The rain hasn’t stopped and he’s trembling all over. Why the hell did he leave the studio and why the hell did it start pouring rain.

Louis doesn’t reply for a few seconds and then Harry hears him laugh. Laugh. Harry doesn’t know whether he should be angry or charmed. Fuck. 

“Hey Harry, you finally called me back.” 

Fuck the cold. Fuck the rain. This is way more important. If he ends up having hyperthermia it doesn’t matter. His words don’t come right away, he clenches his jaw and closes his eyes. 

“Hm, yeah, erm-“ 

He’s cut off by a long blaring sound and his eyes shot open. His driver is here. He didn’t call him but the guy knows his schedule and he knows when Harry’s session in the studio are supposed to finish. Harry swears between clenched teeth and realizes his driver looks alarmed. Ah yes, he’s without coat in the rain and he’s close to hypothermia. 

“Just wait a sec Louis.” He says quietly before he starts running to the car. He opens the doors violently and once he’s seated he closes the door and lets out a long breath. His driver looks over his shoulder and frowns, a clear concerned look on his face. 

“Is everything alright Harry?” 

Harry just nods and closes his eyes, still clutching his phone in his hands. He hopes Louis is still at the end of the line. He sneezes loudly and curses quietly because he hates being sick. Then, he sighs.

“Can you just turn up the heat please ?” 

He brings his phone to his ear again and clears his throat.   
“Hm, Louis, hi.” 

Louis laughs lightly again and Harry wonders if he only called him to mess with him in the first place. 

“Were you in the rain when you called ?” He asks and he sounds so curious about the whole situation. Harry bites his lip and sighs again. 

“Well, yeah. I was erm... I ran out of the studio.” He explains shamefully as he realizes that it sounds way more dramatic than it really was. Of course, Louis now sounds concerned and his voice loses its playfulness. 

“Oh yeah? What happened?” 

Harry grimaces and clears his throat. 

“Jeff wants me to write more songs for the album but I feel like I can’t write anymore so..” He leaves the sentence unfinished and slumps back into his seat. 

He hears Louis moving around and then he hears him taking a sip of something. Surely it’s tea. 

“Where are you right now ?” Harry asks with a certain curiosity. He’s not aware of what’s going on in Louis’ life anymore and it stings a little, but at least he’s trying. He makes conversation, small talk, even though Louis is the one who called and he still does not know exactly why.

“I’m in L.A actually with you know-“ There’s a pause as if Louis hesitates to finish his sentence, his thoughts. “With Freddie.” He states.   
Harry nods and then realizes that Louis can’t see him. He decides to turn his head to see the streets pass. He sees the rain washing the windows and resists the urge to drag his finger against the window. He’s not a kid anymore, he’s passed the age where all you want to do when it rains and you’re in the car is make silly drawings with on the windows. When the car comes to a stop at a red light, he hears Louis’s voice again. 

“Harry? You alright? Have I lost you?”   
“Uh, yeah, sorry I’m actually quite tired. Sorry.”   
Louis laughs quietly at that.   
“Don’t worry mate, I’ll leave you ok? I’ll call you back when you’re less tired.” 

Harry wants to reply something at that, he wants to argue for many reasons. He wants Louis to stay on the phone a while longer, he wants to deny the fact that he is tired and that he was lost in his thoughts for a while. More importantly, he wants to ask how is Freddie, and if Louis ever talks about him to his son. He also wants Louis to not call him “mate” because he finds it really weird. Overall, he wants many things he can’t have and it kills him. If he was really honest with himself he would realize that it’s been killing him slowly for years now. But he doesn’t like honesty. He likes -craves- simplicity. But things haven’t been even close to simple in a fucking long time. So he exhales and nods, forgetting once again that Louis can only hear him and not see him.   
“Yeah, okay, I’ll wait.” He says while rubbing his right temple with his free hand. He can feel a headache coming and Louis hangs up without saying anything else. 

Later, Harry is sprawled out on his couch drinking his tea while some Netflix TV show is playing at low volume on his television. Harry’s attention however is not on the television, it’s on the picture he’s holding tightly in his large hands. He is on the picture, he’s standing tall and proud and his smile shines brighter than the sun itself. He’s looking right into the camera and cradled in his arms, underneath a small blue beaning and a warm little fuzzy blanket is a baby. At the bottom of the picture, we can see the date, January 2016. Harry bites his lips hard and holds his breath to stop himself from crying but he lets out a small sob. He turns the picture over and the sobs get louder when he sees the small inscription. It reads “Baby Freddie and proud daddy Harry.” It’s written in Louis’s messy handwriting. 

He ends up crying himself to sleep that night, his hand clutching the small but oh so precious picture and tea long forgotten at his feet next to the sofa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii! Sorry it took so long to write another chapter. I struggle to write things quickly so I like to take my time to make sure I don't lose motivation to write. Anyway, I hope you like this one and then again I'm sorry if there are mistakes.   
> Enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> hi! It's my first time writing something in English and posting it on here so I apologize in advance for misspellings and other stuff, English isn't my first language  
> With that said I hope you enjoy this work  
> I plan on doing my best


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